Friends,
I met a death doula from Colorado Springs recently and she recommended I watch the limited series, Dying for Sex, based on the real end-of-life story of Molly Kochan. Intrigued, I went home, looked it up (available on Hulu), and pressed play on the first episode.
Molly, a mid-life married woman played by Michelle Williams (Dawson's Creek, anyone?), finds out her cancer has come back after two years in the clear, and this time it's terminal. Her dying wish is to have an orgasm with another person, a feat of daunting vulnerability given her early life trauma.
While I won't spoil the does she or doesn't she with regards to the orgasm, I will fast forward to the last episode where we witness Molly's death. After a botched reveal that they've reached the end of line of medical intervention, Molly gets the run down about what to expect in the dying process from hospice nurse, Amy. Part of the scene goes like this:
Amy: Death is not a mystery, it is not a medical disaster, it is a bodily process, like giving birth, or like going to the bathroom, or coughing, having an orgasm, 'cause your body knows what to do. Your body knows how to die. How cool is that!?! Ok, here's what to expect...
[Amy describes some of what to expect]
...but my favorite part of the dying process!
Nikki (Molly's best friend) [interrupting] : Amy!
Amy: I know, I've been talked to about my enthusiasm, I should dial it back, sorry.
Nikki: It doesn't work for me right now.
Amy: Should I keep going?
Molly: Yeah, will you hold my hand?
Amy [holding Molly's hands]: Your body knows what's coming and it goes into a state of ketosis, which decreases hunger and pain, and it increases the sense of euphoria. And when you start active dying...
Molly: What's active dying?
Amy: Oh, active dying in a sacred time, at least it used it be, and still is in some parts of the world, it's the moment when you're very close to death and your body starts shutting down...
[continues to describe active dying]
...eventually there is a breath out, that is not followed by a breath in. And that's it...
...Wait, I forgot to tell you about the rally!
Nikki [startled by Amy's enthusiasm]: Ah, Jesus!
Amy [very excitedly]: The last week of life, some people experience what's called "The Rally", and it's this just surge of energy and mental clarity, so enjoy the rally! Just know that you're another step closer to death, ok?
Molly: I fucking love your vibe, Amy. You're nuts man!
There are so many things to love about this scene as someone involved in end-of-life transparency, advocacy and activism. Amy is demystifying the dying process, normalizing it as a natural process, and remembering it as a sacred time.
But the real reason I bring this scene forward is because I have a confession to make. I am as enthusiastic about grief as Amy is about the dying process, and I, like Amy, am 'sorry, not sorry' about it.
For many months now, I've been one companion of many, walking alongside a friend who's husband passed relatively quickly and unexpectedly though he had been living with significant, chronic pain and disability for some time.
Very soon after his death, my friend asked if I would accompany her the pool at her gym where she regularly swims. I said yes. Once in the water, she began to share parts of her experience and I listened with rapt attention.
Her husband was very close to her still, in conversation with her, providing reassurances and offering suggestions. My friend was surprised and grateful for this line of communication. To feel his continued presence in a different form beyond his physical body alive in ordinary reality. I was overjoyed, and I'm sure the looks on my face showed it.
Eventually, my friend started to tell me about the travel plans she was considering. As she and her husband loved to travel, and there were many places they had planned to visit that they weren't able to get to before his death, she was dreaming into taking the trips alone or with other friends and family, and scattering her husband's ashes at each destination.
This is the point where my enthusiasm spilled over in a big way.
"A grief project!" I exclaimed with delight.
My friend's eyes got wide as she took in my reaction. It was unexpected. But the laughing and smiling that ensued from both of us assured me that she, like Molly, "fucking loved my vibe".
My excitement, of course, wasn't about the fact that her husband had passed. I was excited because before me stood a woman curious and empowered by the idea of enacting a grand gesture of love to honor and acknowledge her husband's life and death, as well to remember and continue embodying their shared values as partners beyond "until death do us part". I knew in my bones that this was something to celebrate and I made no attempt to hide the inner celebration taking place within me.
My friend has joked with me in the time since that's she's more open and available to the idea of the "Grief Parade" as she calls it, than when we first started talking. Early on, she couldn't imagine there being lightness to match the darkness, joy to meet the pain, new to live up to the old. But the more I see her say yes to her grief - to move with it, and to let it move through her - with emotional intelligence, openness to transformation, and a wide web of support, the more emphatically I hold fast to my belief that grief carries gifts for all of us if we are willing and wanting to receive them. And isn't that something to be wildly enthusiastic about?
What about you?
Do you have a dying wish?
Can you imagine being wildly enthusiastic about any aspect, however big or small, of grief, death, or dying?
What vibe do you love in others when you're facing a difficult loss?
Email me and let me know. I'd love to hear your perspective. lisa@womenofthewater.com